


What He Needs

by kat_with_koffee



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Feelings, Hurt/Comfort, Insecurity, M/M, Porn with Feelings, but it's like, the making love kind of sex, there is sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-31
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2019-06-19 05:54:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15503757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kat_with_koffee/pseuds/kat_with_koffee
Summary: Sometimes, people just need to be taken care of. This is a set of four oneshots about each character having one of these moments.Each chapter is sort of told in the POV of the particular person's significant other. For example, Dean's chapter is from Cas's perspective, etc.(I really, truly AM working on my other pieces. I've got the fun bits written and now I have to write the filler bits, and writer's block sucks. So I wrote emotional stuff to make myself feel better and maybe break out of my rut. Enjoy!)





	1. Dean

Castiel could sense the weight on Dean shoulders the moment he walked through the door. Despite his grin and his easy-going “Hey, Cas,” Castiel could tell. Cas _knew_ Dean. Of course, knowing him as he did, was well aware that if he were to just come out and ask what was wrong, Dean would walk right back out the door and to the nearest bar. 

Instead, he turned his head as Dean leaned in for a kiss on the cheek and smiled back. “Hello, Dean.”

Dinner was almost ready, and if there was anything that could put Dean in a good mood it was food. Castiel made sure to keep the conversation light, and when they’d finished eating he slid _Red 2_ into the Blu-Ray player and the two of them cuddled up on the couch. Cas, resting his head against his boyfriend’s chest, rubbed small circles around Dean’s sternum, linking their ankles together as they rested on the coffee table. 

Sometime during their movie, Dean must have realized that Cas knew something was up. As they readied themselves for bed, Dean kept his eyes down. and when he finally looked up, Cas could see in his eyes the small spark of instinctual fear that could only really mean one thing.

Dean cleared his throat. “Um. My dad called. He…hm.” He shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut and offering a shaky smile.

“Do you want to talk about it, Dean? Do you need to?”

“I…no. No, I don’t.”

Castiel took the two steps to Dean, brought both hands up to reverently cradle his jaw, and pulled Dean into a kiss. Dean’s hands went right to Cas’s hips and pulled their bodies closer, feeling the heat but also the tenderness. Cas was in control, and Dean did absolutely nothing to fight that. That, perhaps more than anything, told Castiel that he was doing the right thing. 

Their lips parted, barely, enough for Dean to whisper a husky “Cas…” 

“Lay down, Dean.”

Dean nodded, but also tugged at the hem of Castiel’s t-shirt. Cas’s hands went to his wrists, stopping the motion. “No. Let me do this. Let me take care of you.”

Perhaps Dean wasn’t aware of the way his eyes got glassy and pleading whenever they did things like this, but for Castiel, it was practically a beacon. He kissed Dean again, claiming his willing mouth while leading him backwards to the bed. 

When it was like this, it took hours. Castiel would use a toy to prepare himself as he unraveled Dean. He’d long since learned all of his sweet spots and favorite tricks, and he expertly brought Dean to the edge and back, over and over again, and always slowly, with precise pacing. If he were ever to speed things up, it becomes Dean’s territory, and right now that’s the thing to avoid. Castiel maintains a steady, tender hold of the situation, loving Dean with everything he is, everything he can give him. And when they’re both beyond waiting, unable to be broken down one more time, Castiel presses Dean down to the mattress with a hand on his chest and straddles him, sinking down onto the pulsing member and rides Dean slowly, steadily, and deeply until both of them reach their peak. Castiel circles his hips, holding off as long as he can to ensure that Dean comes apart deep inside him before his own orgasm tore through him. 

In the aftermath, Castiel pulls Dean close to his chest, encircles him in his arms. There are no words to be said, and neither of them try to fill the silence. Cas cards his finders through Dean’s hair until he feels his boyfriend’s breaths even out into those of a calm sleep. Tomorrow, they’ll talk about it. The stress and anger that only come when discussing John Winchester. 

For now, Castiel follows his lover to sleep.


	2. Castiel

Dean and Castiel had a lot of sex. Not that Dean would brag about that or anything. But far be it from anyone to say that he didn’t keep his lover happy. That said, they rarely did anything special. Spontaneous sex was awesome sex. 

So whenever Cas started making an effort to entice Dean into it, Dean took it a the tiny red flag that it was and surmised that Cas was feeling insecure. 

It had taken longer than Dean would have liked to figure that out. What with Dean having fallen into his sexuality later than a lot of other people did, Cas had spent a long time before they began dating thinking that Dean was straight, and then after that stressing about how he tended to prefer women. Their relationship had been almost shy in the beginning because Cas was always so afraid that he’d scare Dean away, into the arms of some beautiful and dainty woman. Dean had, at first, thought nothing more of these occasions when Cas would put on a show than exactly that—something to be enjoyed. And he did. The night he’d finally decoded the efforts his lover was making for him still made his heart hurt to think about.

Dean also remembered going to the bar together a couple days ago. The second he’d left Cas’s side to get the two of them drinks, a beautiful young woman with a dark tan and chestnut hair had slid right up to his side and laid it on hard. Dean had let her down as politely and clearly as he could, but he could see the spark or sourness in Cas’s eyes for the rest of that night. 

So now, coming home to find the lights turned down and candles lit, Dean immediately switched into overdrive, moving forward with forced ease toward the bedroom. He found Cas lounging on the bed, reading, wearing nothing but a pair of black lace boy-shorts. Which certainly peaked Dean’s interest. 

When Cas looked up at him, Dean didn’t see the sadness of the insecurity he’d been fearing. Which was good. But there was a challenge there, daring Dean to deny that he was any less beautiful than that woman from the bar. 

Which was just a load of bullshit, really. Cas was so, so much better. 

“Hello, Dean.”

Dean smirked and undressed, slowly, layer by layer as he circled their room, putting his shoes away and his cloths in the proper places as he went on. “Evening, beautiful. This is a nice surprise.”

“Hm.” Cas only rose his eyebrows a bit and went back to reading, his face neutral.

Dean, down to his boxers himself, sat on the edge of the bed by Cas. “Oh, what? Now you’re playing hard to get?” He purred.

Cas looked him square in the eye then. “Not at all, Dean. I’m sitting right here.”

Dean snaked a hand behind Cas’s head, tangling his fingers in his hair, and smashed their lips together, teeth clacking and tongues warring for dominance. Cas put up a hell of a fight, but eventually Dean broke their kiss and pushed Cas’s shoulders to the headboard, leaving both of them panting inches away from another heated kiss. 

“Not tonight, sweetheart. You’re mine tonight.”

The way Cas’s cheeks tinged pink, even though he tried to keep his mask up, told Dean that this was exactly right. Beneath his lover’s cold exterior was an extremely passionate soul. Sometimes, Dean had found, Cas just needed someone to give that same passion right back. And he was more than happy to provide. 

He pulled both of them so that they were laying down, inside down in the bed, and he attacked Cas’s pale neck as he positioned them just right, with Dean spooning Cas and Cas’s leg held up by Deans arm crooked under it; the other arm pressing Cas flush against Dean’s chest. 

Deansucked two fingers into his own mouth, making sure that they were entirely wet. Then he nipped at Castiel’s ear as he trailed the fingers down Cas’s back, teasing at the tight ring of muscle he knew so well. “How many fingers?”

“Fo-four.” 

Dean raised an eyebrow, and although Cas couldn’t see him he must’ve known somehow, because he threw his arm behind him to scratch at Dean’s thigh. “Four.”

“Whatever my baby wants.”


	3. Sam

Gabriel was startled enough to jump with the force with which Sam slammed the door shut. He rushed from the kitchen, a lump of worry in his throat for his boyfriend. Seeing Sam slam a fist into the door, rattling the hinges as he lets out a harsh, wordless sound of frustration, compels Gabriel to approach, sliding a cautious hand over broad shoulder blades as he moves to catch a glimpse of Sam’s face. what he sees cracks his quick-beating heart.

Sam’s face, while his brows are drawn together and his mouth rests in a snarl, was wet with tears. Gabriel wipes his tears away, standing as tall as he can on his tip-toes in an attempt to bring their faces close together. 

“What…what is it? Sam?” He ran his fingers through Sam’s unruly hair, trying to sooth his lover or himself, he didn’t quite know. 

He squeaked suddenly when Sam took him in his arms and threw the both of them bodily into the wall beside the door. Gabriel was panting, confused, but the devastation on Sam’s face was too much for him to worry for anything else. Sam kissed him hard, invading his mouth and Gabriel opened for him. Sam could take anything he wanted. 

Large hands grasped at Gabriel’s body as Sam rested their foreheads together. “I just…” his voice broke, and he shut his eyes again. “I need you. Please.”

Gabriel nodded quickly and adamantly. “Anything,” he whispered, “Anything, Sam…”

As soon as the words were uttered, Sam lifted Gabriel up by his thighs and pressed him harder against the wall. Gabriel wrapped his legs around Sam’s hips, allowing for the larger man once again to lay claim to his mouth. Sam tore at his clothes and Gabriel tried his best to keep up, trembling hands moving to Sam’s belt. 

There was no preparation. Gabriel didn’t really need it, they made love often enough that he could deal with the burn that came when Sam pressed into him. He only held Sam tighter. 

The way Sam thrust into him was bruising, his grip unforgiving and commanding and Gabriel existed in an odd in-between of complete and total trust and the knowledge that he should, perhaps, have felt a bit scared. But he didn’t—couldn’t. All he wanted to do, body and soul, was to give Sam everything he needed. Sam pounded into his small body at a breathtaking speed, teeth clamping into the tender flesh of Gabriel’s clavicle, and Gabriel could only cry out brokenly.

Suddenly Gabriel was falling to the floor, Sam’s massive frame eclipsing everything else around them, muscular arms bracketing Gabriel’s head. Gabriel’s body let go at that moment, breaking into his orgasm without his notice beforehand. His back scratched against the carpet with each powerful thrust of his lover as his body tilted into overstimulation, yet Gabriel could only bring his own shaky hands to the sides of Sam’s face and bring them just that much closer together. He whispered to Sam as the thrusts became sharper and even more animalistic. “It’s okay, I’m yours, I’m all yours baby…” Laying kisses on any part of Sam’s face he could reach. 

Sam came with a gut-punched growl, spilling inside Gabriel’s willing body like the doing so would grant him salvation. He collapsed just to the side of Gabriel’s prone form, still partially on top of him, both of them sweating and taking desperate breaths. 

Later, they’d have to at least move to the bed. They’d remove the rest of the clothing, the odd scraps and articles still clinging to their bodies. They’d have to talk about whatever was causing Sam so much distress so that Gabriel knew who to beat up. 

But right now, feeling every new bruise and bite mark and loving every single one, Gabriel could only snuggle further into Sam’s warmth, kissing his shoulder—the closest part of Sam’s body to his face. Sam pulled him closer still, arms shaking after their exertion, and kissed the crown of Gabriel’s head. “…Thank you.”

“Always, Samshine.”


	4. Gabriel

Sam cursed himself as he jammed his key into the front door. It was the middle of the night, and he’d left Gabriel alone hours earlier after a particularly nasty fight. 

They didn’t really _fight_ often. They bickered, and they teased (well, mostly Gabriel teased), but they rarely got into shouting matches. 

Sam hated shouting. It reminded him of his parents. 

He’d regretted screaming what he did at Gabriel the moment it happened, but he hadn’t let it show. He’d stormed out of the apartment after seeing Gabriel’s face fall and crack before the shorter man had simply turned his back, hiding his face. 

Sam had originally planned on waiting a day, sleeping on it before going back and trying to work through things. But he just couldn’t; he’d caved, crawling off Charlie’s couch at 2:24 in the morning and walking back to his building, needing to see Gabriel _now._

The apartment was dark and quiet, but smelled like a bakery. Sam winced when he peeked into the kitchen to see at least two batches of cookies, a pie, lemon bars, and purple frosted cupcakes on the countertop. Usually Gabe was able to calm himself down after only one round of baking. 

Sam crept down the hall quietly, reluctant to wake Gabriel if he really was asleep despite his need to talk to him. Pushing the bedroom door open, Sam’s heart jumped into his throat at seeing Gabriel on the bed, facing away from the door and curled up on his side. Sam could tell he was awake. His breathing was much to shallow for him to be sleeping. But Sam was at a loss, seeing as how Gabriel was obviously trying to avoid talking, even though he must know Sam was right there. 

Sam sighed and dropped his duffle on the floor before catching sight of a piece of paper folded up on his nightstand. Glancing at Gabriel, he picked up and unfolded it. Written there in sparkly blue gel pen ink, like a middle school note passed in class, was a simple question with two boxes beneath it, ready for a checkmark. 

_Still love me?_

__Yes _No_

Tears sprang to Sam’s eyes as he covered his mouth with his free hand. A glance up at Gabriel’s form told him that Gabriel was waiting for an answer, his breath having picked up and him curling the thick comforter even tighter around himself. 

Sam hastily kicked off his shoes, and rid himself of his flannel button-down and his belt before opening his nightstand’s top drawer to find one of his boring, playing black inked pens and drawing a big fat checkmark in the ‘Yes’ box.

He then crawled into the bed behind Gabriel, pulling the smaller man close to his chest. Gabriel gasped in surprise. Sam held the note in front of them both, giving Gabriel time to read it. A muffled cry left Gabriel before he flung himself around, clinging to Sam as he cried into his broader chest. 

Sam held him tight, sitting them both up so that Gabriel was more or less being cradled in Sam’s lap. He carded his fingers through Gabriel’s hair, trying to sooth him even as tears dripped from his own eyes. “I do love you. Of course I love you, sugar. Nothing’s gonna change that.”

Gabriel’s voice was small and dry. “I’m sorry, Sam…”

“No no no, shhh…” Sam clenched his eyes shut, cursing himself yet again for doing this. “I’m sorry for yelling. I love you so much…”

Gabriel moved then, tentatively situating himself to straddle Sam’s lap. He ducked under Sam’s chin, hiding his face and letting Sam determine what happened next. Sam circled his precious boyfriend in his arms and asked quietly, “Do you want it like this, sugar?”

Tension drained from Gabriel’s shoulders and he nodded adamantly against Sam’s neck.

“You sure? You do not owe me, Gabriel.”

“I’m sure,” Gabriel whispered the words into Sam’s skin as he bucked his hips just the slightest bit. “Please Sam. Please…”

“Okay, okay, easy. I’ve got you.”

Sam took his time, easing Gabriel into it and then eventually bringing their bodies together in that same position, Gabriel supported in Sam’s lap. There was little real movement; pleasurable as it was, this was about feeling a connection to the person he loved more than chasing release. Skin against skin, Sam reverently caressed and massaged Gabriel’s body, endeavoring to make his love feel good in every possible way. 

He’d call into work tomorrow. He’d break out the bath salts and expensive lotion that Gabriel liked. He’d cook Gabriel’s favorite meal and they’d have a marathon of his favorite movies. 

For now, he gave everything he could to the precious being he cradled with his entire body, whispering vows of love and endearment into the quiet room. Everything else could wait.


End file.
